Original Title: "Une Grange"
Year: 1993
Maybe, through the songs
like through the holes in the roof
Of that old collapsed barn
Calling for the coolness of the fingers
Of the thunderstorm or love, we see
Maybe my life which is calling
Oh you know how beautiful she was
Former companions of my joy
Seeing that it's true, everything is image.
We are the image of ourselves
And in the palm of the message
You see the mark of the nails.
Oh the lit up fires of the age!
Do not get ill, most of all.
And come back, get dry, behave
Death is raining everywhere.
Killed horses, shadow of the disasters
Future with broken legs
Eternity fallen from the stars
With forms of burnt chinese lanterns
Oh the bombs on the abbey!
Oh the fire in the orchard!
The earth is that dirty apron
And the colors took their revenge
Seeing that it's true, everything is lies
The frank gaze most of all
And a silver cancer is gnawing at me
Since death is roaming everywhere
Let me be that ancient barn
Without pain at the bottom of the summers
And of which a little bit of song leans
And I do not suffer from loving anymore!
Short summer and bad deal
Burning fast, she was in a hurry!
Then you see the roof that shivers
And the old soul moving a little.
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